NotSoDrunken Thoughts
by KresentKryn
Summary: Mind on her, it was then that you realized she was like a rose.


A/N: Hello everyone! This is my first time writing, so I hope you guys like it!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Not-So-Drunken Thoughts

You glanced at her at the bar, where she flirted shamelessly with the bartender. When you first walked in and sat at your empty booth in the dark corner, you hadn't realized she was there. Less than a minute later, though, you heard a tinkling laugh, and looked her way. Even from all the way across the room, the red painted on her lips had drawn you in.

You had followed every weekend for the past month, drunk as hell, to watch her. She ended up here a lot, flirting with the random girls in the club, while you drank your ass off, jealous at every seductive glance she gave to someone who wasn't you.

The woman behind the counter serving her made her laugh again, and your stomach clenched with jealousy. You hated the fact that when you were drunk, she'd occupy every ounce of your mind.

You turned your gaze away, bitter, and let your eyes fall on the half empty drink in front of you, your thoughts wandering. They said your thoughts while drunk were

always true; that your real feelings came out during that time of vulnerability.

Mind on her, it was then that you realized she was like a rose. Sure, you had often compared her beauty to that of a rose's before, but this was the first time her certain qualities reminded you of the flower.

The many thorns stood for the barriers she had carefully, strategically place up. If you were to get too close, she'd prick you, leaving you confused and bleeding. She had left you coldly many a time, hurt and bewildered, in the hallway, where you'd stand for minutes, staring at the place she once was, until your asshole of an ex-boss decided to make a comment.

If you somehow managed to get past her barriers, as you so dearly hoped you had, you were faced with her masks. The dozens of petals represented all the masks she had, such as the one as she was wearing at the moment; the carefree, young woman, just looking for a good time.

You had seen the others too, though. The cool indifferent one she had when with her colleagues, the fierce, pissed-off one she wore when she was met with confrontations she clearly didn't want to meet, the broken, defeated one she had on when she got her test results back, the one she wore around you; guarded as if she were afraid to be _too_ happy, but still trying to give it a chance. And the one you loved most of all, the one you only saw once, the one where she was most beautiful(in your opinion), laughing with a certain release, letting go of all those barriers, until tears ran down her cheeks.

But as you were reminded nearly every day, you could, and would, tear away her masks, but there'd always be another to take its place. You'd never seem to get close to the real person she was, and eventually, your arms sore, you'd just give up.

Shaking your head to rid yourself of depressing thoughts, you took another drink from your glass, draining it dry. You signaled the waitress who had been serving you, and waved your glass slightly, and she nodded.

While waiting for your drink, you looked back over at the one who had been occupying your mind all night. She was flirting with a different woman this time, her hand high on the unknown person's thigh. Just as a blanket of red settled over your eyes, you turned away and returned to your previous thoughts.

The stem that held the rose up was like the pillar of strength that she was. Despite looking frail, she had an undeniable fierceness to her.

Comparing her to the petals again, you would have liked to say her skin was soft like them. But in all the months, nearly a year now, that you had known her, you never had the chance to actually touch her before. She always shied away from your fingertips; never letting them connect with her skin. Even when you handed her a coffee or paperwork, she made sure you never touched her.

However, her skin _looked_ soft; her beautiful face had a perfect complexion. You were tempted to ask what, if any, facial products she used, but you always shied away at the last possible moment.

Your eyes drifted back to her, just in time to see her lean in for a kiss from her female companion. Jealousy boiled up in you and you stood up abruptly, your chair making a screech on the floor, unheard over the loud music. You barely had enough sense of mind to slap down a ten dollar bill, hoping that would cover your tab.

You strode quickly towards the door, hoping she wouldn't see you, but at the same time, hoping she would. As if the god that you didn't believe in was mocking you, she looked up and your angry, teary eyes collided with her shocked ones.

You turned your head away, breaking the connection, just as she breathed out your name, '_Dr. Cameron.'_

Walking away, you angrily brushed away the one tear that slid down your cheek, a bitter smile on your lips. Wondering what your excuse was this time for following her, Remy Hadley, after work, your not-so-drunken mind on her, you walked out of the club into the fresh, cold air just as the waitress placed your non-alcoholic iced tea at your table.

A/N: Well, that's it. Hoped you liked it!


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